Secrets We Keep (Thistle Cove 1)

“Jesus,” he mutters, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I’m seventeen. I want to date you. All of you, and we’ll see where it goes from there.”

Ozzy tugs at his cap and blurts, “I’m in.”

Ezra’s dark eyes dart between us, his knee bouncing like a jackrabbit. “Me, too.”

All of us look at Finn, who sits on the small armchair and stares at his hands, his jaw set.

It’s completely possible this is too much for him, that he needs to process what happened with Rose, how they imploded as a couple before she gave up entirely.

He glances up, piercing me with those emerald eyes.

“I’m not willing to let you go again, not after I just got you back.”

I reach out and take his hand, smiling at all three of them, and say, “Then don’t.”

38

Kenley

A specific kind of adrenaline fueled the community of Thistle Cove during the search for Rose Waller. When it’s officially over, and her death is ruled a suicide, a sense of relief settles over the town. Mystery solved.

Rose had always been one of the town’s most interesting daughters and the mystery surrounding her disappearance only fed the Waller mythology. She was bigger than the school, the cheer squad, the community pool, but in the end, it stifled her, and the sun flared out.

Not only now will Rose fuel the mythology, but she’ll become a martyr as well.

The memorial service goes as expected. The day is appropriately overcast, making the rolling hill of the Thistle Cove Cemetery look greener than normal. One of the first things I notice is that the grass matches Finn’s eyes.

Ozzy and I stand near the back, our parents nearby. It’s appropriate for us to be here—but not appropriate for us to be on the front rows with friends and family. Finn plays the part of devastated boyfriend, only a few people aware that they’d broken up just days before. Mr. Waller is stoic. His wife is a wreck. The Chandler family has a prominent position—not just a support for the Wallers but for the town as a whole. Juliette went all out in a black lace and chiffon dress that makes her red hair glow like fire. Mr. Baxter and Ezra sit one row back. They’re rarely seen together, and their similarities are striking, accentuated by gray, tailored suits. They look more like brothers than father and son. It’s fitting, I guess.

Clustered around them are cheerleaders, teachers, football players, and other familiar faces. I watch them all.

“What are you thinking about?” Ozzy asks, whispering in my ear.

“I can’t stop thinking about the other life Rose led—the one outside of Thistle Cove.”

The one where men paid for her companionship.

The one on the other side of that key card to the East Point Suites.

The one where she’d said she had a relationship with one of her friend’s fathers…

“I’m not sure that really matters now.”

He’s right. It doesn’t.

I’m still dressed in black when I hop in the car. My parents, Finn, and Ezra, they all went to the Wallers' after the service to express their condolences. I can’t handle that today—the cemetery was enough. I dropped Ozzy at home and he kissed me in the driveway, smoothed my hair and made everything okay—for a few minutes.

I don’t turn at my street, instead an urge nags at me and I keep going, heading toward Carter’s Bridge. I’ve done my best to avoid it since the night Rose went missing. Tonight, after the service and the stories and the tears, I feel the need to go.

I park my car down by the road, knowing there’s not enough room on the bridge itself, and start walking toward the center. I follow the lines of spray paint, marks in an unintelligible police language, that point to where the car was found. It’s not like I need that to find it. The shrine will do.

Flowers, unicorns, pictures, and tiny fake candles light up the area. It’s not dark yet and the view from the bridge is notorious for being picturesque. On the side where the shrine sits you can see the bay in the distance. Odds are that’s where Rose’s body was pulled by the current.

As I approach, I’m surprised to see someone else walking from the opposite distance. Black lace and chiffon. Flaming red hair.

“What are you doing here?” Juliette says, walking toward me on spiked heels.